


...And miles to go before I sleep

by Orison



Category: Lethal Weapon (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orison/pseuds/Orison
Summary: A short, post-1x08 episode story following Martin's last scene coming home with the grocery bag.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, new to the "Lethal Weapon" fandom but not to the world of fanfics. I wrote this story in less than an hour and it hasn't been beta-ed (I will gladly accept volunteers for my next stories -- I know there will be more) so I apologize for any mistakes as English isn't my native language.  
> Title is inspired by one of my favorite quotes.

**...And miles to go before I sleep**

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_  
_But I have promises to keep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep._  
Robert Frost

 

***

  
Bananas.

Martin Riggs had to laugh at himself as he took the yellow fruit out of the grocery bag and held it in his hand.

Dog food wasn't a bad idea after all because hey, that mutt kept hanging around and was already scrawny enough to skip any more meals but bananas? Why in hell did he buy those for? Last time he'd eaten one was probably a year ago when... when his life was still worth living.

Miranda had started him on an healthy diet, saying he was gonna be a father now, that he had to set a good example for his kid. There was no one to impress now, and he wasn't sure he wanted to extend his life expectancy longer than his work or his frequent bar fights would allow him. What's the point of being healthy if death is all you wish for?

There were moments, very rare occasions, when he found himself thinking that life was still worth living. He had learned to wash them down, beer after beer, but those fuckers kept coming back, just like they had in the last two days since he'd met Ethan.

Running a hand through his unruly hair, a nervous habit he'd exasperated over the last few months, Martin took another item out of the bag. Cheese Puffs.

Saying goodbye to Ethan had been tough. He had played it down for Roger and Dr. Cahill of course but another piece of his heart had broken as he'd walked away from Sarah's room and into the elevator. Soon there wouldn't be any more pieces left. Even the pain was going to disappear eventually and he would turn into a broken, empty shell of a man, walking around like one of those zombies you see on TV.

He stared at the bag of chips for the longest time. He hadn't planned to get so attached to the kid, and yet the bond between them had gone far beyond his professional duty as a cop to protect the innocents. Ethan had been a ray of light filtering through one of the many cracks in his shell, and that sore spot he'd temporarily healed now ached at the cold his absence had left.

Martin would visit him of course. He'd promised him that. That's why he'd bought the Cheese Puffs, so they could eat them together. But Ethan had his life now, his mom to take care of, and the chance of a new start thanks to the money he had selflessly given them. The check he couldn't even bear to look at. The price of his own happiness that had been so violently stripped away.

His gaze instinctively turned to Miranda's picture on the table. She had such a beautiful, heart-warming smile.

Martin sighed, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest.

They were close, so close to making all their dreams come true. She had chosen him. Out of all the guys she could've picked, she decided to save him. A thousand times over. Up until that damn driver lost control of his car shattering glass, breaking metal and wiping out Martin's own existence along with Miranda's and the unborn baby they never got to meet.

Ethan had made life bearable. And now he was gone too.

Martin put the chips inside the cabinet above the sink and picked the bag of dog food from the floor. _Distraction_ , he needed a distraction. As if on cue, the mutt started barking to get his attention.

"I know, I know, it's coming. You just wait a sec, alright?"

Once the dog was taken care of he grabbed a beer and slumped onto the couch. Christmas was just around he corner. His first Christmas without her. How was he going to survive that?

Silence loomed huge inside the trailer, a giant black void that was threatening to swallow him. He gulped down half of the beer in one, long sip as he closed his eyes, brushing away a tear leaking from underneath his eyelid.

_You drink a lot. You an alcoholic?_

Suddenly he was on his feet again, angry hands reaching for something, anything to break. Cushions flew in all directions, landing haphazardly on the floor. The blanked Ethan had slept on followed suit.

Martin breathed heavily, staring at the mess he'd just created.

He couldn't do it.

_He couldn't do it._

Not by himself.

His knees buckled beneath him and he started to sink to the ground, his body dropping like a heavy stone. The coffee table, surprisingly still standing next to what was left of the couch, provided an unexpected support, preventing him from hitting the cold pavement. He would probably smash that another time.

Fists clenched, shame and regret written all over his face, Martin sat still as time ticked by and day turned into night. Seconds or years could've passed and he wouldn't have noticed. Then slowly, his senses came back to him and he felt something wet on the back of his hand. The mutt was staring at him with sad, questioning eyes.

"Good boy..." he whispered, patting the animal on the back of the head. "I guess it's just you and me, Wolf."

The dog wagged its tail in approval.

As the fog clouding his thoughts gradually faded away, his gaze landed on a slip of paper, half visible under the couch. Martin bent down on one knee to reach it, ready to dismiss it as another piece of junk littering his messy trailer. He unfolded it with shaky hands and stared in utter surprise at the two words neatly written on it.

_Thank you._

The handwriting was unmistakably revealing, the letters neatly inked into the paper in pure 5th-grade style.

Thank you.

Martin's lips curved into a small smile. _I should be the one thanking you, kid._

He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear and carefully folded the note back, placing it in his jeans pocket. Leaning forward, he picked up the blanket from the floor, wrapped it around his shoulders as he stood up, and walked outside, Wolf trailing diligently behind him.

The sky was a dense blue covered with gleaming stars. Martin saw one streak across the air and thought about making a wish.

"You think we'll be alright?" he asked aloud, voice quivering.

The dog barked in reply.  
  
"I sure hope so".

 

  
THE END

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
